Secondhand Scars
by butterflycullen429
Summary: Hermione, now a successful writer, has lost everyone she cares about, both willingly and unwillingly. Living in the muggle world, Hermione believes herself to be safe from ghost of her past, but everything changes when Draco Malfoy shows up on her doorstep. Can old enemies put their past behind them and start anew? Or will their anger destroy the neighborhood along with each other?
1. Hermione

**I own nothing. **

**This is a re-posting of story that I started a while ago, and took down. However, it is re-edited, so some it may sound familiar, some may not.**

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Hermione always knew she would be successful in whatever career she chose. Her bestselling books currently raiding the Daily Prophet best seller list were proof of that.

She just never expected the root of her success to be anchored in such heartbreak and sorrow.

Hermione's tumultuous relationship with Ron had ended terribly in a fight in which ugly spells were cast, and Ron proved smart enough to use his words in the worst way. What really kills her, though, is that she had tried so _hard_ to keep their relationship intact. She had done everything she could think of to keep Ron happy and satisfied, but apparently she just didn't cut it.

Shortly after the break up, Hermione found out Ron had been cheating on her almost the entire time. But not with just one girl! Oh no, there had been multiple women sharing the bed with Ron while Hermione worked overtime to pay the bills, seeing as Ron refused to work.

To make matters worse, the breakup had alienated her from her friends. The Weasley's immediately took Ron's side, and, because Hermione was never able to restore her parent's memories of her, she lost her only family. Harry was a bit better because he had at least _tried_ to stay neutral, but, eventually, his friendship with her had caused so many fights between him and Ginny that she had told him it was either her or Hermione. How is a man supposed to choose between one of his best friends and his wife? Hermione didn't want to feel the heartbreak if he chose Ginny over her, which she knew he would, so she just shut him out one day. She ignored his phone calls, blocked his floo from hers, and set up an anti-apparation charm on her apartment.

After a few weeks of severing all ties from the wizarding world, Hermione threw herself into her first novel, _Hope. _The book had been an instant hit both with magic, and non-magical people. It's a story about a young muggle girl finding her way to freedom out of an abusive relationship. Jasmine, the protagonist, gathers her courage and finds the strength to leave the man who had been holding her back, and pushing her down for years. Hermione begrudgingly admits that it's partly based on her poisonous relationship with Ron. The book made number one on the New York Time's bestseller list, and, surprisingly, also made number one on the Daily Prophet bestseller list, despite it being about a muggle woman.

Which leads Hermione to where she is now, sitting at her laptop with tears falling from her eyes, sliding across her pink cheeks, and dropping onto the scar placed on her left arm.

_MUDBLOOD_

The first time she heard the word directed at her was in second year when Draco Malfoy had said it, and the word had hit her like a slap on the cheek. The sting faded eventually, but the memory didn't. The next few times she had been called a mudblood had all been from Malfoy, and she found it easier along the years to ignore his taunts. However, that doesn't make it hurt any less.

But that was before the war. Before the angry word had been carved into her skin by Bellatrix Lestrange. It was at that moment a small part of her had started to believe that maybe, just maybe, she _was_ just a filthy little mudblood unfit to learn magic.

''I'm Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's best friend, and I could have any witch in the world I wanted. Why would I want a know-it-all mudblood like you to tie me down?'' The words Ron had angrily spat out as he left the apartment for the last time left an imprint in her mind, and she had long since left the wizarding world behind, her name on the books she writes all that remain in that magical world she once thought of as home.

It's been five years since she has spoken to any one from the wizarding world. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't slowly killing her.

Don't get her wrong, she still uses magic every day. After relying on magic for well over ten years, it's difficult to do things the 'muggle way', but the magic doesn't feel as warm as it used to.

But that's all beside the point. Hermione now has a successful career as a bestselling author, and her well-furnished home is testament enough of that. She earns a sizable commission off her books, and owns many things most people often envy for. Well, everything material wise. No matter how often she tells herself that she's perfectly happy and fine on her own, she can't seem to accept it. It might be a very cheesy thing to say, but all Hermione truly wants is love. Love of family, and friends. And, someday, the unconditional love of a man.

Hermione lets another tear fall onto the raised scar on her forearm, and feels the urge to yell out at the world. Why should she have such rotten luck?! It isn't fair that she's alone in this world when everyone else is happy and surrounded by people they love, and who love them in return!

A sudden chiming rings out, jerking Hermione from her thoughts of self-pity. She wrinkles her eyebrows in confusion at the sound of the doorbell, no one ever visits her. As she slowly stands up from her desk she swipes a hand across her cheeks, erasing all signs of tears. She straightens her blouse as she walks down the hallway to the front door, and pauses in front of the mirror hanging in the hallway. There's no doubt she's been crying. Her cheeks are flushed, her nose is runny, and her eyes are rimmed in red.

The doorbell chimes again, and she knows it's unavoidable to be seen like this by whoever is behind it, so she simply takes a deep breath and opens the door.

''Hello, I wanted to introduce myself, my name is Dra-, Granger?''

She can't quite place the warm, friendly voice as she stares at the man standing before her until she looks into his silver-grey eyes. Eyes that had once been filled with such loathing when they bore into her own, but now only hold a shocked astonishment.

Right there, at her house, blocking her doorway with friendly eyes and a warm smile, is none other than Draco Malfoy.

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**Review and let me know what ya'll think!**


	2. Draco

**Enjoy ;)**

**Oh, by the way I own nothing but the plot.**

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The wizarding world, as Draco Malfoy has learned the hard way, is not a forgiving place. Even after Harry Potter, The Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die No Matter What, or whatever the bloody hell people call him now, showed forgiveness toward Draco, the rest of the wizarding world turned away, refusing to even acknowledge the existence of the Malfoy family.

As a child, Draco had been spoiled, and brought up with the core belief that he would never need to work a day in his life unless he wanted to. This belief had been backed up and supported by the large Malfoy trust and the spacious manner, but that was _before_ the war happened. Before his family's worst kept secret now held true in the validation that over half the living family members were indeed Death Eaters, and following Lord Voldemort's command. However, now that it's _after_ the war, the Malfoy fortune is worth nothing due to the fact that the Ministry froze their funds, under the guise that the money had been allegedly stolen. With no money came no, well, anything.

So, Draco left the wizarding world, and left the Malfoy mansion with his mother and father still inside hoping to save what little pride and dignity they had left. Yes, his parent's had tried to stop him, his mother stating genuinely that she would miss him too much, and his father simply yelling at Draco that he would make an even bigger joke of the Malfoy name. Draco's response, ''Oh, Father, I know you don't need any help disgracing our name.''

Luckily, Draco had already packed up all his belongings and sent them ahead to his new apartment in the middle of muggle London, so it wasn't to terrible when his father literally chased him out the front door. Ahhh, good times.

Which brings Draco to where he is now. And where he is now, nearly seven years later, is in a downtown London pub, working his second double shift of the week. It had taken him nearly two bloody months to find a job in the muggle world, and he had nearly used every last penny in his personal funds, his secret fund that he had been putting spare change and money into since his early Hogwarts years. Thank Merlin for his selfish tendencies as a young child whose only goal in life was to be richer than his parents!

''Draco, mate, you can leave if you want to, tonight'll be slow.'' Thad, his co-worker, yells form across the room where he's wiping down all the beer stained tables.

Draco sighs as looks around the pub, noting the few customers who are clearly only there so as not to be alone at home, and nods gratefully, saying, ''Thanks.''

A few minutes later Draco's on his way to the bus stop, pushing his sleeves up as the summer heat bears down on him. The bus seems to be slower coming than usual, and he hopes fervently that he won't need to make the five mile walk home. A year ago, Draco would have simply walked the ten or so blocks to his small studio apartment, but he can't do that because he now lives on the outskirts of the city in a small two bedroom house. He hadn't been looking _actively_ for a new place, but he did realize he couldn't live in his apartment forever. So, when Draco came across an advertisement for a modest house on the outskirts of the city, listed for less than what he had been paying for his apartment located in the city, he jumped at the chance. And so far he's loved it. He loves being able to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and relax in the quiet to just watch TV, a wonderful muggle invention mind you.

The metallic groan of the bus doors opening breaks Draco out of his thoughts over possibly having to walk five miles home in the blazing heat, and he gratefully steps onto the bus into the blissfully cool air conditioner.

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Draco walks happily up the path leading to his front porch, a bounce in his step, rejoicing internally that it's Wednesday night, he got off working a _double_ early, and it's only five-thirty! Plenty of time to relax for the rest of the day.

A grin takes over Draco's features as he digs in his pocket for his keys, but quickly slides off when he doesn't feel the cool metal in his pocket. Nor does he fell his keys in any of his other pockets. After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, he finally admits defeat.

For the first time ever, Draco Malfoy is locked out of his own house with no Earthly idea of how to get back in.

If only he had gotten one of those infernal devices that allowed muggles to communicate with each other, a 'cellphone' is what Thad had called it. The closest thing he had was a white cordless phone mounted to the wall in his kitchen, but that was in his house! He slumps down on his front porch step, half under the shade of his porch roof, and weighs his options. He can sit here and sulk, or grow a pair and ask one of his neighbors to borrow their phone so he could call one of those muggle lock pickers.

He stands up, deciding to ask one of his, hopefully, nice neighbors for help, and observes the houses on his street. Draco decides to go with a medium size white house adorned with daisy yellow shudders. Just like every other house on the street, it seems fairly welcoming and friendly, but he can just feel that there's something different about it. A certain energy around it that's drawing him in.

The walk is short, but by the time he reaches the front door, his palms are sweating, though whether it's from the heat or the nerves, he doesn't know.

He rings the doorbell, waits for a moment, and nothing happens. His brow furrows, thinking maybe whoever lives here isn't home, and he rings the doorbell again. A few more moments pass, and Draco is just about to call it quits and try another house when the door opens to reveal an average sized women with nearly-contained curls and red rimmed doe brown eyes.

''Hello, I wanted to introduce myself, my name is Dra- , Granger?'' He falls silent, shocked as his mind registers that it is indeed Hermione Granger standing before him, crazy curls and all.

Apparently, Hermione Granger lives on the same street as him, and, for some reason, Draco chose to ask _this_ particular neighbor for help the one time he forgets his key.

Is the universe out to get him?

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**Nope, just me.**

**Well, there you have it. Now you know why Draco was at Hermione's.**

**Oh, and if any of you are Klaine fans, you should check out my story Hope.**

**Review please!**


	3. Face to Face

**If you recognize it, chances are I don't own it. Read on! Oh, and, if possible, please be so kind as to leave me a review answering the questions in the author's note following this chapter.**

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You see, Draco had a very clear and concise plan in action to better his chances of getting help. First, he would politely introduce himself as a new neighbor, which, of course, would result in him being invited inside for some lemonade. Then, once inside, he would make casual conversation, feigning interest the whole time, before mentioning in passing that he chose to introduce himself now because he was currently locked out of his own house, but he chose to look on the bright side and see it as an opportunity to get acquainted with his new neighbors. The muggles would then feel sympathy for the poor, nice, young man, and fall all over themselves offering help. Draco would graciously accept, and soon enough be comfortably relaxing in his own home.

As stated before, this _had_ been his plan, right up until the point Draco Malfoy came face to face with one-third of the golden trio, Hermione Granger.

''Malfoy?'' She asks incredulously

_BANG!_

The sound of the slamming door echoes in Draco's ear. Apparently, she isn't expecting a response.

The two stand there, staring at the door separating them for quite some time before Hermione plucks up every single ounce of Gryffindor courage within her, and opens the door.

''Um, hi.'' Draco says, the awkwardness weighing down on the two like an elephant.

Hermione allows herself a moment to observe the man standing on her front porch. He looks strange, she decides, wearing muggle clothes that look nothing like his black suit he adorned their sixth year. Draco's dressed in khaki shorts and a light blue button down quarter sleeve shirt with his blond hair free, and ruffling in the slight breeze. It's a good strange, though Hermione would never admit to such thoughts.

''Can I help you?'' She asks, confusion leaking into her voice.

Draco looks taken aback by her question, as if he thought she might have been planning to attack him instead. In truth, if the Draco Malfoy from their Hogwarts years had shown up at her house, gelled down hair, dark suit, and sneer firmly in place, she _would_ have gone on the defensive. However, Hermione can safely say there's nothing about the shocked man in front of her that makes her want to whip out her wand a start throwing curses at his head; though there's still a fair bit amount of apprehensiveness, as it is her former enemy invading upon her home turf.

Awkwardness still hangs in the air as Draco gapes at her, stuttering, ''Um, uh, I- ''

''What's the matter, Malfoy, ferret got your tongue?'' Hermione jokes, an uncharacteristic smirk slipping into her features.

Ahh, the one and only Draco Malfoy can still bring out the worst in her, even after nearly seven years of not seeing each other.

Tension now diffused, and awkwardness gone, Draco hardens his features, though a small trace of amusement laces his voice when he responds with, ''No, I'm locked out of my house, and am in need of assistance.''

She nods. ''And you're asking me for help because…?''

''Well, it's not as if I actually _knew_ you lived here. I simply chose a house at random.'' Draco retorts, his old attitude slipping into the words.

For some reason, the attitude reassures Hermione. Though he may have been a prat at school, the old attitude coming out is a sign that the world hasn't gone completely mad, and she can now stop looking out for flying pigs. The sneer in his voice, and the holier than though air about him proves to her that the old Draco Malfoy is still in there somewhere under the muggle clothes, though, on account of how their encounters at school had always ended negatively, that may not be a good thing.

''That's not what I meant, Malfoy.'' She states, annoyance clear in her voice.

Oh joy, they're reverting back to their old animosity from their school years.

''Then pray tell, Granger, what you did mean.''

''You just told me that you needed help because you're locked out of your own home.'' Hermione says.

''Yes, and what's your point? I can't be the first person who's gotten himself locked out. You know, if you're just going to poke fun at me, I can just go ask for help elsewhere.''

''No, no,'' She intercepts quickly as he's turning to leave. ''I just meant that, well, you _are_ a wizard aren't you? You could easily use a standard unlocking spell to open your door.''

A slight blush colors Draco's cheeks, and he mumbles something under his breath.

''I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.'' She teases.

''Nothing, just saying-''

''That you just might be one of the most idiotic men on Earth?'' Hermione interrupts, still amused.

Draco, evidently not amused, glowers ''No, it's perfectly understandable that after going for so long not using magic, you forget you have the ability.'' He snaps harshly.

Hermione frowns, not meaning for the teasing comment to elicit such a reaction from the man, and a traitorous sliver of guilt creeps into her mind. ''I'm sorry.''

The words are so quiet that Draco almost doesn't hear, but he does. ''Not a problem. Thank you for your help.'' He says, then quickly makes his way down her walk, heading back to his own home.

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Later that night, as each are lying silently in their respective beds, their minds are sharing the same thoughts. Each wonder what the other is doing living in muggle London, and, possibly more importantly, _why_ their living there. However, to learn the answers of such questions would be to go the root of the question itself, and no way are to enemies going to sit down for a heart to heart like a pair of old friends. Snape would come back from the grave, and start singing 'You Are My Sunshine' before that would happen.

However, now that both share the knowledge of where the other is, can they simply ignore each other? Pretend their encounter never happened?

Oh, Merlin help them all!

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**QUESTIONS FOR YA'LL**

**1) Is the language okay/appropriate? I live in the U.S. in Tennessee, so I'm not quite familiar with how people in London speak, or their differing expressions. Plus, I want the speech to be in character so that you can actually imagine Hermione or Draco saying it. Please let me know what you think on this front, and feel free to offer any suggestions on improving the speech.**

**2) Are they out of character?**

**3) What would you like to see in the story? (Other than a romance between Draco and Hermione)**

**PLEASE ANSWER!**


	4. Grocery Shopping Trouble

**I am not J.K. Rowling, and these are not my characters, I am simply borrowing them.**

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''This is impossible!'' Hermione explodes as she slams her laptop shut, not even bothering to close out of the blank document on her screen. The same document that she's been working on for the last two weeks, but just can't seem to find the right words to put on it. And, of course, the distraction of Malfoy is not helping.

The weeks passed quickly after that one afternoon in early August featuring Draco Malfoy, and the late summer quickly faded into the early signs of fall as the leaves changed form their bright green into vibrant colors of orange, yellow, red, and, in some cases, purple. However, Hermione's encounter with Malfoy stays ever present in her mind, distracting her from her work as she tries desperately to finish her latest novel in time for her November deadline.

''Stupid bloody Malfoy. Why did he have to come here and screw everything up?!''

Fuming angrily, Hermione stalks to the kitchen, hoping a bit of butterbeer ice-cream can cheer her up. She wrenches the freezer door open, and immediately lets out a disappointed groan as she gazes into the empty blankness of her freezer.

''ARHG! Stupid Malfoy! Stupid butterbeer ice-cream!''

Hermione is generally a calm, levelheaded person. However, with twenty chapters of her book left to write, Malfoy distracting her, and having run out of butterbeer ice-cream, you can understand if she's in a bit of a fowl mood.

She supposes a sandwich will have to suffice, and opens the lower part of her refrigerator to gather the ingredients, only to let out an angry huff as she observes the similar state of her freezer and ice box. When was the last time she went shopping anyway? And how could she have not noticed her lack of food?

Oh well, Hermione is well aware that a shopping trip is unavoidable if she wants to eat today, and she should definitely owl her publisher, a witch heading a muggle publishing company, to send her some more butterbeer ice-cream. That stuff is truly the closes thing a witch can get to heaven on Earth aside from chocolate.

With a shopping list in hand, and Malfoy most definitely _not_ on her mind, Hermione sets off for some much needed grocery shopping.

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''Bread, bread, now where in the name of Merlin is bread?'' Hermione mumbles to herself as she walks swiftly from isle to isle, glancing up at the signs over them portraying what's in it.

''Old habits die hard, eh, Granger?'' A voice taunts from behind her, and it's unmistakeable as to who it belongs to.

She turns around to look at the man standing a few feet in front of her and retorts with, ''I don't have time for this, Malfoy.''

She huffs off in the opposite direction, and is just about to enter the candy isle when his voice stops her again.

''Oh yeah, I forgot about your precious meeting with the other two dunderheads of the Golden Trio,'' he sneers, ''wouldn't want to make the Gryffindor Princess late.''

The next few seconds pass in a blur. One minute Hermione's standing right where she stopped, and the next she's right in front of him with her hand reaching out to slap him in the face. The slap reverberates around the surrounding area, but luckily no one turns to see where the sound comes from.

She levels herself with a deep breath before speaking in a low, dangerous voice, ''You don't know _anything_ about me! I'm not the same person I was when I left Hogwarts, and you are not allowed to come into _my_ life and throw things from my past up into my face. If you _ever_ bring up anything about it again, I swear you'll pay. Got it, ferret boy?''

She walks away without waiting for a response.

Hermione's second encounter with Malfoy runs through her mind over and over again as she attempts to focus on her shopping.

It's just that he's so infuriating! He waltzes into her life, and monopolizes all her thoughts, leaving no room for anything else!

She shakes her head to clear it, and looks into her basket to see everything she's acquired from her list so far. It's a bit of a shock when her basket has a total of three things from her twenty-two item list, as she's been wondering about the store fuming about Malfoy for the last hour or so.

There's no way she can get anything productive done while her mind is elsewhere, so Hermione decides to do something quite _un_productive.

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_'Maybe this isn't such a good idea.'_ Her mind musses as she gazes up at a sign reading 'The Pub'. The cleverly named establishment is nestled between a loan place and a gym located in downtown London.

Hermione's not one to drown her sorrows in alcohol, and she's well known for being a lightweight as even butterbeer can give her a slight buzz. She's never actually cared enough to get fully drunk, but all the movies and TV shows depict it as fun. Well, all the ones that don't end with some drunk teenagers dead from a car crash, but it's not like she's planning on driving; although she's not sure if you can apparate drunk or not. Oh well, she supposes she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.

_'Where's the harm in having a little fun?'_ She asks herself, and enters 'The Pub'.

The first thing she notices is the lack of people, apparently midday drinking isn't as popular with muggles as she thought. She cautiously makes her way over to the bar on the far side of the large room, avoiding tables and chairs compacted closely together, and finds a relatively clean bar stool to sit on a few seats down fro a man who appears to be asleep if the way he's slumped over the bar is any indication.

Before Hermione can wonder exactly what she's supposed to do, a familiar voice asks, ''What can I get for y – Granger?''

_'Bloody hell!'_ She thinks as she registers who the bar tender is. ''_Malfoy_?''

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**I would just like to say that I am incredibly sorry for the horrible delay in updating. My life decided to become increasingly busy with _everything_ at once.**

**Anyways, as an apology to you guys and a thank you for not unfollowing my story, I promise to have the next chapter up by Friday.**

**Oh, and thanks to the people who took the time to answer my questions, you all get virtual cookies!**

**Review Please!**


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